chemistry days, healthcare nights
I started my C.N.A. (Certified Nursing Assistant) night class this week, and although I'm totally knackered, it's a great experience. CNA's assist convalescing patients with the so-called Activities of Daily Living. That means washing, toileting, dressing, eating, getting to activities, along with basic healthcare stuff. It's not as boring as it sounds - there's a trick to getting someone's weight when they're in a wheelchair, and learning to move a stroke patient around while you change linens takes skill. And it's definetly gratifying -- these are the things everybody needs to do every day for both health and dignity. Plus, we're simply there as a primary caregiver for elderly patients, many of whom are awfully lonely. That feels good. Exactly the feeling I was hoping for when I left Corporate America.
I signed up to be a CNA because it was the cheapest, fastest way I could get some kind of healthcare certification that would allow me to do hands-on patient care, which is required for the master's programs in healthcare I'm applying to. I figure I can work a couple of night shifts a week while I'm in class during the day to rack up some patient care hours, but my primary support will still be writing. I knew the kind of thing I was in for with C.N.A. work, as my mom was a director of nursing at a home when I was growing up.
The class that suited me best is in Vallejo, and as it turns out, I'm the only white person enrolled. In fact, I'm the only non-Filipino in my class, including the instructor. I've been the only white girl in a class before, but not one where everyone else was the same nationality. My classmates do a good job of not slipping into Tagalog too often when I'm around, and they ask polite questions about my knitting. We practiced taking heights yesterday, and they were all astounded at my 5'9" -- I was equally astounded at one girl's 4'10" (we took a photo together). I love the fact that my classmates address the teacher with a polite British "yes mum," and joke-telling is high on the list of priorities. When we were learning the Heimlich yesterday, the teacher quickly dismissed her demo student with "you're too chubby!" as she couldn't get her arms around. Gales of laughter and no mortification whatsoever followed.
The people in my class (9 women, 2 men) are all good students. We're a little daunted by the gnarlier tasks ahead of us, but nobody's backing down. Most of my classmates are becoming C.N.A.s as a way to support themselves en route to another healthcare degree, often nursing or P.T. Some have nursing training from the Philippines that doesn't qualify here; one is even a dentist. Many of the older students (I'm probably just about average age) are supporting families both here and back in the Philippines, including providing law school tuition for a younger brother, Catholic school tuition for kids, and another is pretty sure she and her husband will be able to swing a mortgage once she's certified.
There are also 3 young girls, freshmen in community college, who are there trying to get into nursing programs. I love working with them, because they fall apart laughing at the slightest provocation. (1 of them outscored me on the first test, too.) At the first raucous gigglefest, white girl looked around nervously, worried that the girls would be chided for being unprofessional. But the teacher was smiling kindly, as was everyone else.
It's going to be a long two months -- I have late nights until the end of January -- but at least I'm laughing. Ooh - and I can't wait to get to the resident home and help out with Poker and Bingo nights. I live for that shit.
I signed up to be a CNA because it was the cheapest, fastest way I could get some kind of healthcare certification that would allow me to do hands-on patient care, which is required for the master's programs in healthcare I'm applying to. I figure I can work a couple of night shifts a week while I'm in class during the day to rack up some patient care hours, but my primary support will still be writing. I knew the kind of thing I was in for with C.N.A. work, as my mom was a director of nursing at a home when I was growing up.
The class that suited me best is in Vallejo, and as it turns out, I'm the only white person enrolled. In fact, I'm the only non-Filipino in my class, including the instructor. I've been the only white girl in a class before, but not one where everyone else was the same nationality. My classmates do a good job of not slipping into Tagalog too often when I'm around, and they ask polite questions about my knitting. We practiced taking heights yesterday, and they were all astounded at my 5'9" -- I was equally astounded at one girl's 4'10" (we took a photo together). I love the fact that my classmates address the teacher with a polite British "yes mum," and joke-telling is high on the list of priorities. When we were learning the Heimlich yesterday, the teacher quickly dismissed her demo student with "you're too chubby!" as she couldn't get her arms around. Gales of laughter and no mortification whatsoever followed.
The people in my class (9 women, 2 men) are all good students. We're a little daunted by the gnarlier tasks ahead of us, but nobody's backing down. Most of my classmates are becoming C.N.A.s as a way to support themselves en route to another healthcare degree, often nursing or P.T. Some have nursing training from the Philippines that doesn't qualify here; one is even a dentist. Many of the older students (I'm probably just about average age) are supporting families both here and back in the Philippines, including providing law school tuition for a younger brother, Catholic school tuition for kids, and another is pretty sure she and her husband will be able to swing a mortgage once she's certified.
There are also 3 young girls, freshmen in community college, who are there trying to get into nursing programs. I love working with them, because they fall apart laughing at the slightest provocation. (1 of them outscored me on the first test, too.) At the first raucous gigglefest, white girl looked around nervously, worried that the girls would be chided for being unprofessional. But the teacher was smiling kindly, as was everyone else.
It's going to be a long two months -- I have late nights until the end of January -- but at least I'm laughing. Ooh - and I can't wait to get to the resident home and help out with Poker and Bingo nights. I live for that shit.
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